


Absolutes

by gerbilfluff



Category: Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith
Genre: Body Horror, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:00:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/619844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gerbilfluff/pseuds/gerbilfluff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Written in 2005.] Even with the might of the Galactic Empire under his control, Darth Vader remains plagued by dreams of his past life. Palpatine is eager to help him through the pain, but as we all know, the Emperor is never without an ulterior motive...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Absolutes

**Author's Note:**

> THE LEGAL STUFF: This fanfic contains strong sexual themes involving two men, including (eventually) the sort of imagery usually reserved for those TV programs that show footage of open-heart surgeries. (That, and if you subscribe to the fanon theory that Darth Plagueus was the one who created Anakin, I guess there'd be an extra godfather-incest thing added into the mix, though the idea isn't brought up in the fic itself.) If you're not physically, emotionally, and/or legally able to read stuff like that where you're at, then-- dude, what are you doing here? Push the Back button NOW, you silly person you! ...Moving on. The characters and settings in this story are the property of Lucasfilm Ltd. and its subsidiaries, affiliated companies, and third-party licensors, and are being used here without permission. No profit is being made from this file. In space, no one can hear Happy Fun Ball.
> 
> Here goes nothing...
> 
> \-----

Absolutes

by Apricot the Gerbil

 

Emperor Palpatine had always held his concept of sleep to be that of a love-hate relationship.

Sleep, by its very nature, was the embodiment of weakness. All through the galaxies, rare was the race that could last for long without slumber, be it hibernation or time spent hooked to an electrical socket. It was the ultimate equalizer-- an endlessly hungry maw, nibbling away time that could be used towards more useful pursuits... Palpatine would have loathed sleep, were it not the most valuable tool he'd yet found to wield against his opponents. Indeed, if not for sleep, his ascension from Sith apprentice to Sith Master would have been much harder than plunging a lightsaber into an unmoving back.

Darth Plagueus had been nothing if not inventive, however. Among the many circumventions of organic design he taught his apprentice, the younger Darth Sidious took particular interest in the art of meditation, soon perfecting its use in ways his Master could only dream of. When in his trance-like states, he could slow the workings of his body, controlling his midichlorians to the point of reaping sleep's natural repairs-- and Palpatine had never slept since. Between his mastery of patience, empathy for others' predictable reactions, and this added near-lifetime for him to silently craft his thoughts, Palpatine had long seen the future not as a series of probabilities, but as a string of outcomes spread before him, all to eventually occur as his own manipulations saw fit.

True, there were some occurrences not even he could foresee, but little could escape his notice for long... of those few events he hadn't already set in motion himself, that is. Whether by carefully filtering the information he gave to each faction seeking their Chancellor's advice or by directing the many rogues under the employ of the Sith right into their competitors' paths, Palpatine was more than used to tailoring the futures of others. Now that the entire Galactic Republic was under his rule, with Imperial law branding all other factions as bountied traitors, his own future looked brighter than ever before. Why would he want to sleep when he was ahead?

Despite this, his apprentice clung to this more primal form of recharging. Perhaps Vader viewed it as the last connection he had left with his formerly unspoiled body, though it never seemed to give him much peace. Night after night, Palpatine sensed Darth Vader thrashing awake from yet another nightmare, rippling the Force around him like a stone flung into an eerily silent pond.

Palpatine knew of Vader's skulking forays through the base in those late hours, if only from the storms of emotion he occasionally felt trailing in Vader's wake. As a Jedi, the young Skywalker was infamous in his disregard for subtlety, especially in times of stress... but when the body of an ensign was discovered by the ship's security team early one morning, crushed to a mash of blood and bone, the Emperor reflected with amusement on how little the new Sith Lord had changed.

That day brought its usual pile of reports and obligations... even moreso for Emperor Palpatine and his second-in-command, what with the Republic's recent 'restructuring.' Throughout the conferences the two of them presided over in their newly-rechristened Imperial Star Destroyer, Palpatine noted Vader's sudden tranquility-- a stark contrast, amidst the fear sparking in the hearts of the ship's crew when news of the 'freak medical incident' was confirmed. "A tragic loss, doubly unfortunate to have stained the dawn of this most glorious of times," the Emperor told the holofilm cameras in response, just as he'd rehearsed to himself the previous evening. He kept his head bowed as he spoke-- partially to invoke a sense of reverence for the deceased, but mostly to ensure his quiet smirk was hidden from the room.

There were far more urgent matters on Palpatine's mind than a mere case of murder. To say nothing of the intriguing new "Star of Empire" project a Captain Tarkin had brought to the table, he was achingly curious to know when Darth Vader would reveal the reasons for this sudden violence. He had felt an ever-sharpening undercurrent of pain begin to rise within his apprentice in these past days. Whether the young Sith had killed to relieve this unspoken strain, or to declare superiority over his crew, or simply to solidify his resolve to his new allegiance-- Palpatine didn't waste the effort of wondering over the 'correct' justification. He knew Vader would eventually come to him with his troubles, after enough time spent fruitlessly brooding through them alone. Such was simply Darth Vader's way, and if it required the death of a low-ranking soldier, well... Compared to the promise of Vader's-- nay, the entire _Empire's_ future glory, the life of one ensign mattered very little indeed.

When three more corpses were found in as many days, however, Palpatine could feel the jitters and glances of his uniformed herds festering into a constant, roiling nausea. In his travels across the ship, he witnessed an argument over drink rations flare into an accusatory fistfight, with others called in to pull the three brawlers apart-- and by the last of his day's scheduled demands, the paranoia had only become worse. On one occasion, even with his usual pair of Imperial guards flanking him, he found a small group of soldiers aiming their rifles at him from down the hallway. They refused to lower their arms until they'd finally edged close enough to confirm his identification. _His_ identification. _Their Galactic Emperor_.

Somewhere in the litany of apologies that soon followed, a lieutenant informed Palpatine of the new rumor going around-- how normal weapons were useless against this "death shadow" haunting the ranks. The commanding officer shook his head, scoffing at his troops' foolishness, but Palpatine could tell the fear was in him as well...

This would not do.

In these early stages of his plans, the crumbling morale of his own staff was a higher priority than allowing Vader a balm for whatever problem he was still childishly refusing to address, Palpatine decided.

That night, the Emperor retired to his meditation room... and waited.

\---

The disturbance Palpatine sensed early that morning (or as close to a morning as an unchanging blanket of stars from all sides could be considered) was all the more noticeable when he was fully alert. He _felt_ Vader choosing his prey, long before the muffled shrieks grew loud enough to be heard over the hum of the starship's engines. When Palpatine walked past the dented standard gun lying on the floor where it'd been thrown, he knew he was close.

By the time he arrived, the unfortunate ensign had already been toyed with enough to have lost control of most bodily functions allowed to a conscious mind; the man's face was a desperately-pulsing reddish purple, with a trail of spittle frothing down onto his collar. His eyes bugged sightless in their sockets, still trying to focus on his attacker from where he hung-- slammed there against the wall and held fast by constant, merciless waves of Force energy. And the ensign's pain... Palpatine had sensed the distinct perfume soaking the whole surrounding corridor. Only by manipulating the Force could someone be made to feel such unbridled torture. 

Darth Vader stood facing the ensign, his emotionless mask making the twitching of his rigid, outspread hands all the more disturbing a pose. Only Palpatine could see the flurry of joy radiating behind the skull-like face. It wasn't until he cleared his throat to gain the younger Sith's notice that Vader even seemed aware his Master was standing nearby.

Vader turned and quickly bowed his head in the Emperor's direction. "Master. My apologies," he said, his surprise tempered by the reverent restraint properly shown to Palpatine's rank. He looked back at the ensign momentarily, long enough for the man's body to rend itself to a ribbon of snagged-together sinew there on the wall. With the nonchalance of having tended to a spare gardening chore, Vader's attention returned to the hallway, ignoring the _thump_ as the meat landed.

Palpatine's voice was edged with disappointment. "Dead crew members are of no use to our plans, lord Vader. You would do well to remember this."

Vader's only response was his respirator's steady echo.

The Emperor crept around him, just enough to fix his own gaze upon that dark mask. Through the pulses of the Force, he could feel the cold uncertainty snaking into the blaze of Darth Vader's form. "Your anger has grown like a mighty fire, as of late. I sense it as one may see night or day..." He trailed off, then continued, unblinking. "You struggle, within. Something... you have not yet told me."

Vader felt his superior's stare piercing him, even through the barricades of his armor. Not long ago, when he still wore a Jedi's robes, he'd wondered how a single look from Palpatine could leave him feeling defenseless to his core-- as though all his secrets were stored behind the Emperor's veiled eyes, and he was only being asked to tell him what he already knew-- but he'd already learned to stop questioning this. It was simply a truth of his new life, since being reborn in a monster's body."...It is so," he replied.

"Your powers will remain stunted until you embrace the freedom given to you by the Dark Side, completely," Palpatine chided. "To know one's own weaknesses is to destroy their hold upon you."

"It is as you say, my lord, but I don't yet know how to destroy these... _troubles_ you speak of." 

Palpatine's hand came to rest upon the black gloss of Vader's shoulder. "This may be a small battle, but even the tiniest foothold aiding you in becoming your true self is a necessary one. Whatever is troubling you, we shall discuss this in the Mechanius chamber at once."

Vader fought away a sting of fear, remembering the last time he'd been in that room. For all the technological miracles the chamber housed, it offered no bandages for the _memory_ of that recent pain... "And this one?" he asked, casting a hollow glance to the ensign's remains.

"I will send the order to have it disposed of, and the area cleaned. _Assuming_ this will be the last casualty," Palpatine said, narrowing his eyes at the young Sith to lace the sentence with unspoken threats, "The crew can manage itself. Hives will continue to toil, even when their leader is unseen."

Vader bowed solemnly in agreement. "Very well, my lord. Where you lead, I shall follow."

"Indeed..." was his Master's reply. Emperor Palpatine's cloak whirled as they started down the cold, winding corridors.

\---

"I suspected it to be a medical malady, yes, but you should have told me of your armor's malfunction earlier," Palpatine said, raising his voice to be heard over his apprentice's howls of anguish. Metal manacles held what remained of the one once known as 'Anakin' firmly against a massive slab as mechanized prongs tugged away the circuits connecting Darth Vader's limbs, nerve by nerve. "The operation is still fresh. We must ensure this will not happen again."

A deep, warbling sound growled from within Vader's respirator; his other arm finally snapped from its socket. Without so much as a concerned glance, Palpatine wandered out from the clusters of dangling, bilious-colored drip bags surrounding the slab, checking on the repair droid's progress instead. He watched it skitter over the inside of its patient's torso shell. Its tiny rotors hummed, spraying a mist of disinfectant and scrubbing free the crusts of hair, blood, and other spent effluvia matted thick upon the metal's lower rim. "You say these wounds were the fault of your dreams...?"

"I swear it," Vader panted. The column of scars along his neck bulged and sank with inhumanly precise timing, nudged by the breathing apparatus buried under the skin. With a pressurized hiss, his helmet and face plate were slipped free for examination as well, leaving his eyes squinting blindly in the chamber's dim light. The few muscles still responding in his jaw kept his mouth frozen in a taut grimace as he struggled to speak without his mask's structural aid. His voice was less imposing than the thundering silk heard through the timbre of the helmet, but was twisted deep by the tubing keeping his windpipe from closing in on itself just the same. "This was not... of my own desires... My wife-- Master, even in death, she _haunts_ me!"

"Ah... the sweet siren's call of the evening," Palpatine remarked with a wizened nod of his head. He sighed at his own poor judgement, glancing over the minefield of sores clustered upon Vader's groin. He knew the lava burns had practically ruined any organs left below Darth Vader's waist, but the idea of factoring nocturnal emissions into the armor's maintenance cycles hadn't occurred to him whatsoever... much to the already-neglected area's damage, apparently. "I suppose this was only to be expected. Though your new power has brought you more strength than even machines could strive for, the flesh within still remains."

"This-- it is not the only thing I dream of, my lord," Vader rasped. His pupils jerked towards his Master pleadingly. "When these injuries don't occur. Dreams of... children. They seem special, somehow-- a boy, and a girl. Even after I'm awake, I feel their presence in a way I can't explain!"

Under his shroud, Emperor Palpatine remained tight-lipped and emotionless. "What do you _believe_ this to mean?" he asked.

"Padmé. She is dead, but... the child..." Vader struggled for words that would clear the confusion muddling his mind, and found few. "Could it be, Master? _Two_ children--"

"It is irrelevant. They are dead to you," Palpatine declared. 

Darth Vader paused, trying to hide the small pang of hope he felt rising in his thoughts. "You speak as if these two may still be alive, somewhere," he said slowly.

Palpatine scowled. " _No_. Whether you killed them with the same blow that felled their mother, or they somehow managed to survive, know that they are _dead_ to you, lord Vader." Through the Emperor's frosted tone, anything seemed to gain an air of indisputable fact. "You know all too well that ties of the heart only serve to strangle those foolish enough to let themselves be bound by them."

He returned to the young Sith's side, running his claw of a hand along Darth Vader's wound-puckered face. "If you suffer from these dreams, you must abandon the guilt that allows them to bring suffering upon you. Whether weaknesses strike your body or your brain, you must learn from them, and move on, a stronger being. Learn to place trust and concern only in yourself... and, of course, the one who guides you to these truths... and you need never know doubt again!"

"Master..." his apprentice began, unsure of how to finish the thought.

"True, there will be struggle. No benefit may be won without struggle," Palpatine said, his expression crinkling in a convincing mimic of sympathy. "I know well that your victories have been... _difficult_ , for one so young to bear in short time."

The respirator's pull made Vader's silence seem all the more bleak. "I can no longer recognize the sound of my own voice," he murmured.

"Sacrificing one's outward appearance in return for the gains it may bring you..." Palpatine let out a stiff-sounding chuckle and slid back the hood of his cloak. The wrinkles curving his skin looked like cataract-colored gills layered on his face, the lights giving him a clammy blueish sheen. He smiled, showing the hints of stubbed teeth. "You are not so alone, in this trade."

"How did these changes happen to you so quickly?" Vader asked. "Will I become--"

He was interrupted. "Worry not, young lord. You are not yet able to handle the strain of channeling a raw outpouring of the Force. One day, perhaps, I shall have the privilege of seeing you advance so highly." Vader noticed his Master frowning slightly as he spoke on. "Though I do admit, I believed my own looks to be of great use to me when dabbling my way through the Senate, before they were warped to this... I was once very proud of my face. Even I did not comprehend what demands the energy would make on this tired, old skin."

Palpatine's jaw stiffened. "But I do not regret choosing to cast aside my own vanity. The rewards have been well worth the exchange! We are here to ensure _you_ hold no regrets as well."

"Regrets...?"

The Emperor's withered fingers began to stroke softly across his apprentice's brow, back and forth. "If this was simply an issue of damage to your armor, your dreams would not disturb you." He paused. Vader's eyes squinted at the scraping sensation the bony gnarls of his hand made, but Palpatine kept moving them-- perhaps attempting a calming massage, unaware that he was failing horribly. "Tell me. Padmé. When you two would... couple... what did she do?"

Vader's neck craned up as far as it could in surprise, jostling the intravenous tubes attached there with the sudden motion. "What?!" 

"Affection can be broken down to actions, blanketed by false hopes," said Palpatine. "Anyone can perform an action. If your resolve is to grow, it is imperative that you not only _learn_ this, but _know_ this, absolutely. Body and mind, together."

He leaned in close. "Furthermore, you will remain here until you tell me." Palpatine's breath was mysteriously chilled. Vader squirmed in the restraints despite himself as his superior spoke; the few remaining patches of skin on his neck prickled at the breeze. "I would consider my teaching ability to be pathetic indeed, if I allowed my pupil to leave before a lesson is fully taught."

The Emperor watched his apprentice's eyelids flutter closed, and listened for an answer, as patient and still as a vulture. "She was fond of... embraces," Vader eventually said, keeping his eyes shut. "Even away from our bed, she would hug me whenever a chance to arose."

As leaping with the aid of the Force was largely a soundless ability, the only warning that Palpatine had jumped onto the slab was the _thud_ and sudden weight when he landed atop Darth Vader's body. Vader's eyes snapped open to see his Master barely a few inches from his face-- and by then, Palpatine's arms were already clamped around his torso.

"How does it feel?" Emperor Palpatine rasped to Vader's ear. 

That gust again. Vader shuddered. He hoped this wasn't leading up to some kind of punishment for attacking those soldiers... Or was this a test? What was he _supposed_ to say to that sort of question?

Honesty prevailed. "You're... very heavy," he replied flatly. He was grateful his respirator kept him breathing, in fact, but decided it would be wiser to leave his answer at that.

"Not half as heavy as that woman's weight on your soul!" Palpatine scolded. "Now, continue! What else?"

Silence.

The Emperor frowned, sensing the conflict practically smoldering from his apprentice. "There is no need to feel shame over sexual desires, lord Vader. I am trying to _help_ you. Speak, and heal the scars your betrayers have caused!"

Vader's voice was quieter. "...She would enjoy the times when I... when she was on top of me. Riding me, and--" His words choked away; he pulled in a gasp over the tempered exhale of his respirator, feeling Palpatine start to rock his groin against him, locking splayed legs tight to either side of his bare waist. He heard his Master utter a similarly low sigh as he shifted his cloak to pool over both their bodies, but Vader was surprised by the faint, rapid pulse he now felt pressing onto his stomach-- the purpled tip of Palpatine's grey, sallow-skinned penis poked from the edges of cloth, erect and eager. "My lord...?!"

"You feel it," said Palpatine through a growing grin. " _Here_ is your lesson. There is no love in this!"

The Emperor bent to kiss his apprentice's forehead, and again, on his mouth, sloppy and wet, attacking Vader's lips between his words: "These are not acts of love-- of _anything_. You have been lied to by those who claim otherwise! What you feel is a reaction of the body-- is _pleasure,_ solely for my own enjoyment. I wish for you not to die, and that is all... To believe that actions may be anything _more_ than actions is deception!"

This too was a lie, of course. Palpatine knew that he _did_ want something, knew it as clearly as that his own lust was being fueled by every sound escaping Vader's throat. He considered the Jedi's Chosen One prophecy no more than mythical claptrap, but it was impossible to deny there was _some_ thing about this boy, something inexplicably _there_ \-- his very presence held an intangible allure. After Darth Maul's untimely death, the Emperor had at first held no preference between the contenders vying for the title of Sith Lord; indeed, it was a time-honored Sith strategy to test the strength of one's allies by turning them against each other. Count Dooku, Asajj Ventress, General Grievous-- each would have offered much potential, had they not been felled nearly as one by Obi-Wan's headstrong little padawan.

Ah, the young Anakin Skywalker... He was as perfect a being as Palpatine could have hoped for, with the passion of Maul's animal-minded battle furies tempered by the same steadfast respect for authority Darth Tyranus possessed. Such a trusting soul, never suspecting the conflicts between these two ideals would lead to his fall from the Jedi path. And Palpatine had kept Anakin under the shelter of his wing all the while, content to watch from a distance as the troubled padawan grew ever stronger, ever more beautiful-- knowing he would be there at the back of the boy's mind, waiting. The sole ally left to catch Anakin when his pride rose high enough to scald him, sending him tumbling to the cruel ground.

By now, whether through his actions or Anakin's own, all obstacles keeping him from his apprentice's soul had been pried loose and destroyed, save one... and Palpatine knew this final triumph would be the most thrilling of them all. He _wanted_ this brilliant creature writhing underneath him. Wanted _all_ of him, completely-- body, mind, and soul.

Such a victory was useless if Vader's decision was not of his own free choice, however. Persuasion had planted its seeds well, but Anakin needed to _give_ himself to the Emperor's will if the seduction was to be absolute. Palpatine was so close to erasing Padmé's silly face from Darth Vader's heart, replacing Anakin's hopes of love with total obsession for _him_... so very, _very_ close... The thought alone sent hot, unbearable twinges through every nerve in his body, from brain to groin. He breathed deeply, dragging himself back towards where Vader's legs once were. "Now tell me, young lord," he commanded, "... _tell_ me, what will make _you_ feel this pleasure?"

At first, he took the noise Vader made in response to be a simple moan, and slid down further, grinding his erection between his apprentice's leg stumps. Perhaps it was his own pleasure that blinded him from noticing sooner... It wasn't until the sounds coming from below him grew louder, bellowing and thrashing like some frenzied, gutshot beast, that the Emperor suspected things were amiss. Pausing to lift his robe, he saw the skim of bloodied pus pooling out from the lump of what used to be Darth Vader's scrotum. The ooze had stuck to Palpatine's own trespassing organs as well; an unearthed waste-collection tube was still plastered to the thin, snotlike webs trembling between the root of his cock and the ruins of Vader's crotch.

Ah. Yes. The wounds. He'd forgotten about those.

\---

The medical droid's eye panel blinked green with a cheerful-sounding "beep!" It hovered over its handiwork until Palpatine dismissed it, waving his hand. "Much better," he said, looking at the thick, rumpled cap of soddered-together tissue pasting all that remained of Darth Vader's genitals into a single, distended bulb of flesh. It still had the same bruised color to it, much like an overripe fruit, but simply being in one piece was a vast improvement from its previous state. "Now that the issue of injury is taken care of..."

Vader's head rolled to the side and rested on the slab. The mist of sedatives the droid had zipped over to spray onto his face faded to uselessness just as quickly as in his first operation, but now that the surge of adrenaline from the pain that followed was dying away, the whole room seemed plodding and hazy. "What happened?" he asked, looking around as much as his restraints would allow.

"A minor setback," Palpatine told him. He reached to gently squeeze at the bulge, waiting for Vader's reaction. "Does that hurt?"

"...Does what hurt?"

The Emperor's eyes narrowed. His hand closed around the flesh, grasping tighter, until his nails drew small beads of blood.

"What are you doing?" Darth Vader asked, oblivious.

Palpatine sighed, darting a finger towards the droid angrily. He signaled for it to float back and tend to the bleeding. "Perhaps more than a minor setback. No matter. There are other ways to awaken these senses from their slumber."

When the droid chirped again, it crumpled to a twist of steel and circuits in midair; its surprised beep cut to silence before it even hit the floor. Palpatine continued, sounding much more at ease. "Now, as I recall, you were about to tell me what it is you find pleasurable. All the better to show you how fulfillment never has to hinge on anyone but yourself."

Thankfully, Vader seemed largely unfazed by the trauma he'd just gone through. His response still carried a tinge of hesitation, but Palpatine was impressed by the speed of his answer. "I suppose it felt best when... _that woman_..."

"Goood," purred the Emperor quietly, grinning wide at the change of words.

"...would take me into her mouth. Sucking on it. Or blowing air over it... Her breath was very--"

Palpatine's grin disappeared. "And anything _else?"_ he interrupted.

"I don't think so," Vader said. "It already seems like so long ago... I can't remember."

"As it should be," nodded Palpatine, though it took great effort not to have his annoyance color his voice. He had forgotten how overpowering carnal urges could be, after life as the galaxy's political media darling had all but erased the possibility from his busy days. It pained him to realize how much he was acting like the bundle of hormones he'd spent all this time trying to ease into his command, but once embraced, Palpatine's lust clouded his every thought. He didn't _want_ to stand here and think up ways Vader might still be able to get aroused, he wanted to _take_ him! But he knew it wasn't worth jeopardizing his apprentice's trust, and there really didn't seem to be anything Vader had left to work with either way-- what to do... what to _do!_

Calm. Always, calm. Calm, now... Palpatine took in a slow, deep breath. In... and out. This was ridiculous, he scolded himself. It had taken years for him to build this much of a bond between Anakin and himself, had it not? In the grand scheme of things, another few minutes was hardly an impossible task. If there was one thing Palpatine knew above all else, it was that patience held the highest rewards.

However, as Vader wasn't offering much help in the matter, he decided upon the first idea that presented itself. A distant memory, perhaps, though Palpatine recalled his own Master's lessons with a mind that saw much and forgot little. Darth Plagueus saved his most successful technologies for himself, but only after perfecting them on dozens of others' bodies first...

_"Take a good look, young one," Plagueus said, holding up a small chunk freshly cut from the brain of another failed attempt. "The culprit behind the raw bliss of our loins. Many fools believe its spark to need a higher purpose. Love. Sacred bonds. Another's touch."_

_With a flick of his scalpel, the lump landed atop the cold, curled maze of the open brainpan. "Do not delude yourself, lord Sidious. Meat may be puppeted, but meat it shall always remain. Nothing more."_

"Its spark..." Hmm. 

While Palpatine walked the few paces to the front of the slab, he asked his apprentice, "Have you ever learned how the brain operates, lord Vader?"

"I haven't," Darth Vader replied, his eyes widening slightly. An odd question, he thought.

"Don't tire yourself," the Emperor said, sensing his confusion. "I only mention it because of the strange workings of reflexes." He placed his hands to either side of Vader's head, careful not to scrape the more tender-looking patches raised here and there on his scalp like calloused bubbles of dough. "It really is quite fascinating. Each part of the brain controls a different reflex... In fact, an organism can be made to feel or react to any number of impulses, simply by stimulating a certain part." 

He stared down into Vader's eyes. The sides of his mouth quirked. "I've never attempted such a specific target before, but some parts are known to house the more... primal sensations," he added.

"Attempted... how?" Vader asked. He saw a glimpse of light flickering. Very close by, though he couldn't tell exactly where.

"Hold still," he heard his Master say. There was a sharp crackling sound--

...and the white light swallowed him whole.

The lightning sparked from the Emperor's fingertips as quickly as he willed it to recede, flitting away within the same second-- a pause, and another... Vader's body spasmed, his moans sliding through clenched-rigid teeth. 

Then again, this was how anyone's system would react when suddenly forced to serve as a conductor. There was no sign he was hitting anything _useful_. Palpatine cursed under his breath as he searched, trying to remember just where it was Plagueus had pulled that blasted node from. Precision and controlled aim were that wretched ape Yoda's forte, not his...

When he heard Darth Vader's respirator stutter and go silent after the fourth jolt, his hands leapt away, near-panicking, even when the steady _phhhrrr paaaahh_ pulse returned an agonizing few moments later. No more sudden moves, Palpatine chided himself furiously. It had been stupid of him to even _attempt_ something his impulsiveness alone judged to be a good idea. Trying to shock an orgasm out of his apprentice wasn't worth the risk of causing him any brain damage, given Vader's already compromised body... He rested his hands on the edge of the slab, watching anxiously for signs of the young Sith's stability to return.

...Not that Emperor Palpatine was concerned for Vader's well-being or any such self-defeating rubbish, of course. He knew he was above such delusions. Apprentices of Darth Vader's caliber were simply hard to come by, he reasoned to himself.

Either way, it took longer than Palpatine would've liked for his apprentice to open his eyes. "I... I'm, sorry, I-- swear to you, Master..." Vader blurted, forcing out the words as though he had to spit each one loose from his tongue. "I wun... un-- won't. Kill them, anymore. Unless you c-command."

Palpatine delved past the jaw-locked stammerings to search the patterns of Vader's thoughts themselves, attempting to make sense of what he was babbling about... and at last, his expression softened into a frown. "No. No, this isn't about the soldiers."

"Then... why?" Vader asked. His brow rumpled upwards in confusion, one side still twitching on its own accord from the jolts.

The Emperor paused before answering, trying to keep his words simple. "It seems your body was damaged very badly. Worse than I had thought. You will likely no longer be able to feel anything from what is left."

Even through his stupor, Vader's eyes widened in realization. "Anything? Even..." He trailed off.

His Master nodded. " _Especially_ there. I'm afraid so."

Darth Vader fell silent. "... _All_ of it?"

Another nod.

Vader said nothing more. He stared ahead blankly at the lights glaring from the ceiling. 

Palpatine gave his apprentice's head a brief, conciliatory pat. "Rest yourself. The discomfort should pass in short time, if you relax. We will try something different," he said, looking off to the side. There were plenty of species without standard erogenous zones, weren't there? He'd seen a number of them experimented upon in person... not that Plagueus' intent was ever to arouse his test subjects, of course. He still remembered the bloody aftermath of the time his old Master had a Jawa trying to mount his face...

Still, Vader must have at least one or two places other than his groin that could serve as a substitute. The Emperor's gaze drifted along each bump, crater, and scab of the charred body before him, eyeing anything that might have the proper potential. Nothing was easily recognizable... He reached to smooth his hand over what might be a remnant of nipple, or perhaps just another spot where the fibers from Anakin's robes had melted into his top layers of skin, and gave it a twist. "Anything?" he asked.

Darth Vader tried shaking his head back and forth, but grunted, soon realizing he couldn't. "No," he said instead.

"...Here?"

"No..."

Palpatine crossed his arms, slumping against the slab. He looked down into Vader's bloodshot eyes and sighed wearily.

"Mm. That... that feels..." Vader began, sighing back. His lids slid shut, giving him the first pleased expression the Emperor had seen on his face for months.

Much to Palpatine's surprise. What did he do?! He hurried through the possibilities in his mind... and when it suddenly occurred to him, he was dumbfounded that he hadn't thought of it sooner. His pride was easily pushed aside, however, given the more immediate concern at hand. He bowed his head, letting free a long, steady breath to tickle Darth Vader's neck.

His apprentice craned his head slightly, keeping his eyes closed. No words were needed-- Vader's shivering smile was all the beckoning it took for Palpatine to lean in further and lap at the skin under his cheek. And then, a moan, as the Emperor ventured to nip and suck around that small patch not crosscut by the surgery scars meshing his throat, not violated by the respirator's forced entry-- _"nnnhh...!!"_

When looking over the memory in the days and weeks that followed, Palpatine never recalled making the jump back onto the slab. Yet there he was, somewhere amidst the kisses and slurps of wet lips on dry skin, straddling his willing captive underneath what slight modesty his cloak offered... not that either of them cared, now. They were in Vader's element at last: only the present mattered, raging for as long as each sensation could be drawn out between them...

" _Unh_ \-- Master...! Higher! _Up!_ Please damn it high _THERE_ \--"

...Or so Palpatine would think of it later on. Within the moment itself, there was little elegance to be found in what was essentially his oral fucking of the younger Sith's jugular nerves. Dignity was a concept too complex to be troubled with here, in this writhing ballet of two deep-water creatures-- twisting about, heaving their bodies against each other and groaning, deaf to the echoes against the sheer metal walls of the chamber.

" _Auuungh! hauu_ \--"

Palpatine's teeth let go. Another nudging lap; his forehead kneaded the boy's cheek as he burrowed his tongue a bit rougher. "You _are_ enjoying this, aren't you," he breathed. And _oh,_ didn't Vader's trunk squirming against him like that feel nice... "You can never hide from me-- your Master _always_ knows what you feel! This is the best you've ever had... _Nothing_ compares to this!" His tongue speared out yet again, over and over.

"Yes! _Ahhh YEEEES!!"_

In hindsight, what surprised the Emperor most of all was how he never had to convince his apprentice that this rather unorthodox reroute felt just as good as attention paid to his groin. If he wanted to twist the Force to sway Vader's thoughts, a change of attitude was laughably easy for him to suggest, but no-- each shout for more was genuine, the enjoyment Vader's own.

Palpatine paused from sucking on the scraps of Vader's ear, whispering, "So... who is giving you this pleasure? Is it Padmé?"

"You, Master! _You_ are!" came Vader's deep moan.

"Yeees," Palpatine said, slowly tracing the tip of his tongue along the curved ridges as a reward. When he reached the earlobe, he flicked it into his mouth, then stopped to let another breath slither down Vader's neck. He grinned at the young Sith's devoted attempts to return his embrace with armstumps, continuing, "Yes, and who would you choosenow? Myself... or Padmé?"

"I'd kill her again!" Vader cried out. He lashed his head in tight, ecstatic whorls from side to side, the stubs at his shoulders quaking in his Master's arms. _"I'd kill her again!!"_

Vader arched his back, swooning at the quick burst of air gasped into his ear... and when the gummy sputters of the Emperor's semen landed across his chest, Darth Vader was none the wiser. 

Once he'd taken the chance to catch his breath, Palpatine glanced down at the mess he had made. With a flick of his wrist, the sperm was whisked over the side of the operation table. After a brief pause for thought, he reached to lift his robe, checking how Vader's new surgery had held up. Good, no sign of damage... or even tissue reaction, for that matter. The last thing Vader needed was a blockage of some sort. He shifted back to look down at his apprentice-- who, he was somewhat surprised to see, had apparently been staring at him the whole time. Palpatine could see smears of sweat glistening upon Vader's head as he lie there, his eyelids half drooped, a massively satiated look on his face. He panted up at his Master quietly through his throat's calm wheezes.

A simple clench of a fist, thought Palpatine. That was all it would take. Just a snap of one delicate tube and Vader would be powerless to even _breathe_ , if the Emperor wished. Yet here his apprentice was: this paled, slimy grub, trusting his Master even when torn from his invincible cocoon. Vader showed no sign of ill will towards him for damaging his body, nor even an inkling that the loss of his manhood was in any way Palpatine's fault. A look of gratitude, given by the lamb to its butcher... The slight tremble of Darth Vader's lower lip just then was enough to make Palpatine's penis twitch anew, dribbling a last feeble spurt or three in its own form of tribute. " _Mmn_..." he murmured, his teeth clenching from the feeling.

After a satisfied sigh and another tidying swipe of Force-wind, Emperor Palpatine resettled himself upon Vader's body, linking his arms tight around his fellow Sith's shoulders in a gesture some might dare to label 'a hug.' "You have done very well, lord Vader," he told him, patting his apprentice's bald, blistered head delicately with one hand. "You have reason to be proud... How far you've come, my dear boy."

With that, he allowed himself to rest. He had forgotten how tiring such exercises could be... His mind, however, was hard at work, savoring this taste of fresh triumph. Directing the separatist troops to Mustafar had been a wise move after all, he thought. Anakin's body was better off as this brittle husk before him, looking just as the Emperor's visions had foretold. Not only was Vader's terrifying might assured to be manageably under his Master's control, but Palpatine felt a new sense of peace; the handsome, youthful glow of Anakin Skywalker was now no more than a memory, distant as any hint of his own former vigor. Whenever possible, Palpatine tried to avoid being held under jealousy's sway.

Vader was adrift in his own sort of afterglow as well, fully content to enjoy his Master's touch for as long as he could. Soon, the repair droids would return to tear out his temporary IV tubes and stitch his body back into place, sealing him away from the outside world once more... He couldn't have even begun to imagine such a feeling of separation when he was under Obi-Wan's leash. Vader felt his anger rise... It was all Obi-Wan's fault his body was like this in the first place.

For now, though, he let his hatred fade. Knowing that Emperor Palpatine was willing to help him find such intimate pleasure was a humblingly powerful cure for Vader's ego. He wasn't as tired, either, like he would be after a full release with his wife... He preferred having sex the old way, but if the means to do so were gone, the only option he saw was to consider himself lucky Palpatine still wanted to do _anything_ with him.

And even though he may have moaned louder than was needed to show Palpatine his appreciation, it _did_ feel good. Not the same, but very, _very_ good-- such a sense of closeness, even now. He could still feel tingles all over his neck, where the film of his Master's drying spittle was being cooled with every heavy breath from above him.

A memory of another embrace stirred, floating up through Darth Vader's thoughts... 

_"Anakin! There you are," said Shmi, turning from the clothes in the washtub to see him standing in the doorway. His dirty-blond head was bowed, and he fidgeted a snippet of cable-coil in his hands... Without having said a word, she could tell something was wrong. "What's the matter? You're home a bit late... Did Watto keep you--"_

_His interruption blurted its way through the tears welling from reddened eyes. "Watto found my droid!!" He bit his lip and hunched forward as his sobs began._

_Shmi walked over to him, scooping her son into a hug. "Oh, Ani," she cooed to him softly. "Not your silver one, was it?" She swept his hair from in front of his face, asking, "Would it help if you told me about what happened?"_

_"It was-- I just put in the protocol chips I found, but I couldn't fix the volume yet. He, he heard us, I was hiding in the shed talking with it, and--" Anakin clasped the wire with both hands, squeezing his knuckles white. "He BROKE it! Got a big wrench, and yelled at me and said he didn't keep me around so I could be a thief, and it kept asking me for help, and I had to just STAND there! H-he threw the pieces way up on the top of the Bantha dungpile, said if he caught me taking stuff from his dumpster again he'd throw me up there with it..."_

_"Ani, I'm so sorry! And you spent all that time making it, too," she said, dabbing his tears away with her shawl. "I warned you not to play with it so much lately!"_

_"I know, I know! But that's not IT, I-- I didn't cry, not the whole time, 'cause I didn't want him to see me crying, but..." As he went on, Anakin's face tightened in the sort of unfiltered rage only allowed to small children. "I got it to WORK! When it was made out of junk I found-- it wasn't even all Watto's! NOBODY can build stuff that well around here! Didn't he even care?! I wanted to hit him! SO HARD! But I CAN'T!"_

_"Shh, shhh... it'll be all right, Ani. I'll keep saving what I can find, and maybe you can try again soon. You'll see... next time, you can make him even better than he was before. And little Toopio will be just as happy to see you, once he's rebuilt! It's like I always tell you..."_

_"I know, I know. 'Tomorrow's going to be better, and if it isn't, you can still hope for tomorrow.' I'm sorry, I really am! I promised myself I wasn't gonna cry until I got home, and then... I still can't DO anything." He sniffled. "It hurts so much, sometimes!"_

_"But I know it's going to get better for you, Anakin. I know that. You're too smart and strong to let this place keep you very long, I just know it," Shmi said, patting the back of his head. "And you're right. Everybody needs to cry, once in a while."_

_Anakin quieted for some time, letting his mother's embrace warm his sadness away. Like she always could. "One day, when I grow up and I leave, I'm gonna take you and Toopio with me, and you won't have to work and wash all the time anymore 'cause me and Toopio can help you. We'll be happy together FOREVER-- and I'll find somewhere I won't have to ever cry again, never ever! I promise!"_

_"Of course you will, sweetie," Shmi told him. Her smile was just small enough to still be comforting. "I know you will."_

Vader wondered what his mother might do if she saw him lying here, now countless tragedies older. How horrifying her little Anakin had become...

But it felt familiar, felt _right_ somehow, doing what he'd just done with his Master. He shifted in his restraints, enough to rest his cheek closer to Palpatine's. Colder to the touch than his mother had been... He recalled how Shmi seemed to carry the faint scent of kitchen spices wherever she went. Palpatine smelled vaguely of formaldehyde.

Darth Vader sighed, closing his eyes. Details like these didn't matter to him. He felt _safe_ with Emperor Palpatine... and always had, now that he considered it. Ever since he began turning to him for guidance, back when life became so confusing. Whether through his words or by simply _being_ there, a sturdy shoulder Vader could run to in times of doubt, Palpatine seemed to shield him from any harm or lies, in a way he had only ever felt in his mother's arms. And best of all, his Master was right here, still alive-- could still be trusted to know what was best. 

He remembered how he'd paused before killing off the Jedi bratlings in the Temple, stricken by the thought of how his own son or daughter might one day grow to look like any of them. If Palpatine's parting words hadn't been there to give his spirit strength, Vader might have failed to carry out what his destiny of being The Chosen One required of him: _Remember this, young lord. Life feeds upon the lives of the slain, or it will die. Truth must destroy all untruths that cloud its path, or it can never prove itself to be true. Without destruction of the old, a better future will never come to pass..._

It occurred to Vader that he had taken his Jedi training to heart better than any Knights and Masters of the Order ever had, even Obi-Wan. Time and again, Yoda preached never to get attached to anything... but contrary to what he suspected everyone on the Council was muttering behind his back, Vader now knew he'd followed this advice best of all. After all, Vader had been letting go of things his entire life. Mostly meanings of the word "truth."

In fact, the only truth that'd ever brought any sense to his life was that what was "true" could change-- and often did. As a child, Watto taught him that he was a slave, nothing more. And so he was; whether _he_ thought he should be one or not made no difference. Then Qui-Gon told him he was meant to be a Jedi instead, and this was apparently a good thing, better than being a slave... even if he had to spend the next half of his life learning why. When Obi-Wan told him of a prophecy that declared he'd one day be a greater Jedi than any of them, Vader was surprised, but he took this new version of his destiny in stride, just like everything else.

And when Palpatine finally told him why he'd been feeling so many things the other Jedi said were wrong to feel, that he was really supposed to be a Sith... then a Sith he became. More powerful than any Jedi. Than _anything_. It only made sense that he received a new name with this change; it was proof of how much he'd grown, become a better person-- and every step of the way, Darth Vader had to relearn what "the truth" meant if he was to understand why he was now better than before.

Each new truth carried its price, though. Vader knew this all too well... Because he'd been off learning the Jedi Path, he lost the chance to save his mother from dying; from the knowledge he gained in becoming a Sith, he could never again see his friends as anything more than deluded weaklings, to be put out of their misery. No, not even that-- in trying to rid his new life of that damned fool Obi-Wan's blight, he'd had to give up his _body_. The very flesh he'd shown his love to Padmé with.

He no longer held any regret for sacrificing the life of Padmé herself. If there was any doubt of this left in his heart, the last of it had been cleansed by the wisdom and care Palpatine was gracious enough to show him, tonight. As Vader reflected upon the years with his wife through now-enlightened eyes, he could see how Padmé had only ever held him back from completing his journey to the top. How could he have once thought offering to overthrow Palpatine to gain the Empire for her sake was a good idea?! If she was too stubborn to understand that her outdated truths didn't apply to him anymore, then she was just another ignorant, Jedi-siding traitor-- her spawn included! Inferiors, like all the rest. Just like Palpatine warned him... At least Vader knew to trust his Master first, by now.

His Master had some strange ways of teaching his lessons, yes, but Emperor Palpatine alone had been willing to help Vader fulfill his glorious destiny-- and when everyone else in his life had either died or betrayed him! If the only way his body could feel pleasure from his Master was to feel it somewhere entirely new, it was a trade Darth Vader was only grateful to accept.

And here, again, Vader mused, Palpatine's words rang true: life was so much easier to understand in terms of absolutes. Truths that outlived their use never had to trouble him again, once he'd cast them aside for whichever was the better of his two options... Had the muscles in his face cooperated, Darth Vader would've broken into a supremely smug grin at the thought. He doubted Yoda had ever practiced his own teachings that well.

Despite the pleasant feeling of vindication, something still troubled him. "Master?" he asked quietly.

Palpatine flicked open one weary eyelid, then shut it, acknowledging Vader with a "hm...?"

"I understand that love is a weakness, but is it also wrong for a Sith to feel... _attachment_ , to someone?"

Perhaps the sound his Master made was a chuckle. "Oh, my dear lord Vader," Palpatine said, sounding amused. "Without attachments, you would have no reason to feel passion. Without passion, you'd be without strength... and without your strength, whatever would you have left?"

Vader didn't know how to answer that question. "I see," he replied, somewhat wishing he'd been asked for a simple yes-or-no response.

As always, the Emperor seemed to sense whatever confusion remained inside him. "We have borne an empire between us, you realize," he whispered to Vader's ear. "If I am its creator, you are surely its father. If you crave some sort of family so dearly, know that through your great power, you shall give our child its form."

Darth Vader's mouth twitched in a small, quiet smile. The peace he had longed for since first waking upon this same slab, that this would all make sense in the end... there it was, complete at last. "It is my honor, Master. Thank you."

Palpatine stirred, nodding to Vader as he sat up and fumbled for the sash-ends of his cloak. Best to give his pupil just enough of a sense of freedom to convince him the shackles clapped around his body were medals of glory, the Emperor thought. He cast a glance to the line of droids at the far edge of the chamber, each still huddled in their stasis modes. "It would seem we are done here. For now, at least. Unless you would disagree...?" he beckoned, looking down at his apprentice.

"No, my lord," Vader said. He steeled his jaw, hearing the whirrs and clicks of his faceless surgeons' activation. As they drew closer to the slab, the droids unsheathed the prongs from their many limbs, surrounding him with sharp, serrated edges, glinting in the lamplight...

Vader resigned himself to the coming pain. After all, he no longer had any regrets.

\---

"Everything is in order, then?" the Emperor said, bending slightly to check the diagnostic panel fixed on Darth Vader's waist. He stepped back as Vader sat upright upon the operating table, thick armor encasing him once more. 

Vader clenched and unclenched his fists, looking at them through the sunset tinge of his helmet's eyes. "Yes," he said simply, and indulged in a steep nod of his head, now that his neck could move. He was grateful for the steady drip of pain suppressants the suit's wires were feeding into his veins from all sides, dulling the ache of his re-implantation... Before long, the armor would truly feel like _him_ again, helping Vader forget the mistakes each scar-line on his skin bore witness to. His sleek, carved carapace hid everything away, both from the prying eyes of outsiders and, most importantly, from himself.

Palpatine smiled, turning to walk towards the chamber doorway. "I do hope our time together has been beneficial, this evening," he said. The door swished open with a wave of his hand, but he stayed off to the side, waiting for his apprentice. "I believe I shall request the Geonosians to construct something for your private quarters, in any case. One that allows easier removal of that _troublesome_ helmet of yours, should it require any further examinations. Depending on your future performance, an occasional checkup would only be wise."

Darth Vader was struck silent, though Palpatine noted the surprise setting sparks to the Force around him. "Oh... of course!" Vader finally sputtered.

It was nice to know subtlety wasn't completely lost on his apprentice, the Emperor thought. He watched the young Sith push away from the slab, landing upon the floor with a heavy twin _clop_ from his boots. "And tell me, lord Vader, what have you learned?" Palpatine asked.

As Vader drew nearer, he flicked one gloved hand to the side, sweeping the door closed again with a nudge from the Force. He paused in front of the doorway, blocking Palpatine's path, and bowed to one metal-capped knee. "I know that what I owe you is more than could ever be properly repaid," he said.

"Well, that--"

Vader interrupted him and continued, his voice firm. "I would like very much to... to pleasure you, my lord." He raised his arms, his black skull tilting up towards his Master's face. "With these hands. Hands I would not have, without your help."

"Hmm. That is true," said Palpatine, silently reeling at the statement's naïvete. The adoration in Darth Vader's eyes was hidden by his mask, but not from the Emperor's keen inner sight. Oh, the sheer _irony_ of it all... "Very well. You may," he answered through a grin. 

When Palpatine swept the thick folds of his robe to either side, though, Vader was surprised by the tremor of disgust and pity that washed over him. The Emperor's skin practically hung from his bones, looking bleached of any color a living thing might have. His genitals resembled less the organs in question and more an exhausted snail slumped between his legs; even the faint tufts of his hair were sparse and wilted, as though some strange, sun-blighted vine had taken root upon Palpatine's scrotum and died there. Truly, his was not the only body suffering, Vader thought. He reached for the dangling bundle with such care that it seemed a mere jostling from his fingers might shatter the elder Sith entirely.

His Master was aware of Vader's feelings, of course. Far from being offended, however, Palpatine found that being _thought_ of as the helpless one by the very apprentice he owned made the situation all the more arousing. He performed his expected 'fragile invalid' role like a charm, enjoying every bit of the attention-- grabbing hold of Vader's shoulders and trembling as his sack was cupped, swaying into the grip of massive black hands trying desperately to be gentle, his erection nearly engulfed by the two fingers tugging down to either side of the head and brushing back... 

It felt _so_ good, in fact, that when his knees began to buckle from the strokes, Palpatine thought nothing of it... nor how he surely would have toppled into the wall, had Vader not curled an arm around his waist to keep him upright. There was only the thrill of control, the smooth warmth of his pawn's hand... As Vader shifted his glove, rolling his thumb underneath the tip of his Master's penis, Emperor Palpatine's eyes squeezed shut, a broken gasp hitching in his throat. The milky beads already beginning to drip from his slit made the movement even more slick and slippery, until Palpatine clutched tight onto Vader's armor, grasping, grunting-- spilling soupy flecks of white onto the chamber's steel ground.

Such was his power over the young Sith that Vader helped ease him down to sit on the floor without him having to say a word, or even think of it. Palpatine leaned back, resting his head upon the wall. He gave his apprentice a smile, though his gasps for much-needed breath kept him from speaking just yet. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Darth Vader stand up, towering above him. 

Vader listened to Palpatine's labored wheezing for a few moments more, watching silently. Purely as an afterthought, he murmured, "Your body can be weakened far easier than the one you've given me, Master..."

It was a mistake to have said it. Vader sensed this even as the words left his mouth, but by then the statement was lost to the air-- a mistake not because it was incorrect, but precisely because it was _true_.

He saw the discomfort twisting Palpatine's features as realization struck. The dynamic between them suddenly carried the imbalance of a prison camp left unguarded, and once acknowledged, Vader had no idea how to _un_ -reveal this discovery of his Master's weak spot. He gave the Emperor an awkward parting bow, then swished the door open and walked out, closing it behind him. Unsure of what else would be proper for him to do, Vader waited there, his hesitant frown hidden by the stiffness of metal. 

Palpatine remained where he sat, his robes rumpled about him, mentally scuttling to salvage the pieces from his gameboard of the future after having it so rudely upended. He commanded his mind to a state of calm with his usual ease, but even this seemed forced somehow, an artificial quiet-- like stilling a lake's surface by destroying any trace of life within it, offering no help for his nerves. One fragment now stuck like a spearhook in the foundations of Palpatine's ordered inner universe.

He was no longer sure whether to be pleased his apprentice was learning so quickly, or worried for the same reason... 

 

\--roll credits!--


End file.
